She finished the ascent, reaching the roof of the castle. The remainder of her family waited for her there, beneath the light of the four quarter-moons. Her father, tall and pale and proud, and her mother, sturdy and strong, were cast amidst the driving wind and spiraling snow. Her mother held little baby Percival in her arms, but there was a conspicuous absence. 

“Where’s Elaine?” Gwen demanded. 

“We sent her away, to keep her safe from you,” Alistair said, his voice threaded into the wind itself. 

“She won’t be,” Gwen said. “None of them are. It ends with me.”

***

Healing light washed over Lacy as the Stars replenished the world’s magic. Their song was quiet, gentle, soothing- all the things that the world they shone over was not. The moon was full and enormous in the sky overhead, and a campfire burned in the pit next to her. The ground was rough and rocky beneath. They were definitely out in the woods- she’d never seen trees that tall before. Somehow beneath her was fresh grass and flowers in spite of the lack of light the canopy let in. She looked around and saw the three winnebagos parked around the fringes of their fire. On the other side of the flame sat Harry, sitting on a wooden chair propped against his train car, whittling away at a stick with an old swiss army knife, a fully-built locomotive engine sitting on the ground next to him. 

Lacy blinked. “... Hi.”

“Sal’tations.”

 “Yeah, that. Um… How are you here? Sir.”

“How are you here, young lady?” Harry asked, not looking up from his whittling. 

“Well, I…,” Lacy started. “I’m guessing I was brought here.”

“Me too.”

“You were brought here?”

“No, I’m guessing you were.”

She searched for meaning on Harry’s seaside cliff of a face. “Where are we?”

“At my trailer park in Iowa.”

“Iowa? I thought your trailer park was in Wisconsin. And Nebraska. And Michigan.”

“Did you?”

“I- yes. Yes I did,” Lacy gritted her teeth. She expelled a small measure of the frustration with a sigh, then began drumming her fingers on the ground and said, “Asking the wrong questions- rhythm’s all off.”

“It happens to the best of us.”

“Also, I didn’t think trees like this grew in Iowa.”

“They don’t,” Harry said. “Yesterday they weren’t even here.”

“... I’m guessing I’ve been here since yesterday? In my mini-coma?”

“That’s right.”

“Did all this without even meaning to,” Lacy muttered, looking around at the forest. It must’ve been because I accepted the Star. It’s all pouring out of me now- the power. “Where’s Gwen? And the others?”

“They should just about be arri-”

An iron beast flew headlong across a dirt path carved out amidst the forest. It emerged on the dark horizon, barreling closer. It was a blue and gray affair, a single-decker on a labored chassis attached to Danny’s pickup truck. A locomotive. 

But why-

It stopped with such an alert rapidity that Lacy shook her head and rubbed her eyes. The door to the wagon opened, and Gwen was the first to emerge. She ran over to Lacy and offered her a hand up, and then hugged her when Lacy was on her feet. Danny came next, not checking first but going straight for the hug. Lacy flinched, her body trying to tug backwards and shake free, but accepted it anyway. Joshua loomed in front of her, a mountain in a Hawaiian shirt, and gave her the thumb’s up, which Lacy mirrored. Quentin, meanwhile, offered her one of his firm handshakes, and Lacy appreciated its solidity. Isabella went for a hug right away as well. This girl is… Either friendly or- No. No couldn’t be. 

… But why not? 

Lacy took further stock of her surroundings: the flat land was ruptured, bobbing up and down as massive roots dug through the soil. Trees and bushes exploded across the skyline. This was… Not natural. Beneath her elbow pressed against the ground, something poked upwards. Lacy moved it and saw a sunflower had bloomed beneath her in the harsh soil. 

Her heartbeat was a convulsing whirlwind of fear and pain, striking without rhythm amidst the cluster of sounds swirling through the plains. Okay, breathe. Breathe, for fuck’s sake. Calm down. Just CALM DOWN. You’re carrying around a power plant, but you can handle this. Or at least, you can learn how.

Lacy said, “Gwen, I want to start training again as soon as possible. Even if it’s just for an hour a day while we’re on the road to wherever we’re going.” Gwen brushed a strand of hair from her eyes while a bemused grin sprouted on her face. It then registered for Lacy that Gwen’s hair had changed color again: it was white as an eggshell. “Also, I like your hair,” Lacy said. “Is that your natural color?”

Gwen chortled. “Well first, thank you. Second, yes. Third, wow, right down to brass tacks.”

“Well, yeah.”

“You’re not even gonna ask about the train?”

Lacy cocked her head to the left. “Right. Why did you guys get a train car?”

“Harry wanted it, in exchange for him coming here and helping us again.”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about that- how did he get here? And why does this place look like an actual trailer park? Like, why is there that same sign here? Does he actually own trailer parks across North America and just like, hauls ass over here?”

“Harry says I’m not allowed to tell you. He wants you to figure it out for yourself.”

“Of course he does,” Lacy grunted. “I guess I’ll sit on that for a while. What does he need the train for?”

“Wouldn’t say. If it helps, I don’t know either.”

“Harry, what do you need the train for?” Lacy asked.

“Won’t say,” Harry said, inspecting the results of his whittling, smiling to himself as he kissed it. Then he kissed the handle of his knife and said, “My wife got me this knife.”

Gwen continued, “Lacy, we should probably catch you up- you were unconscious even longer than last time. Almost a full month.”

“What?” Lacy balked. 

“Yeah, we had to take turns feeding you and brushing your teeth,” Danny said, taking a seat by the fire, unscrewing a hip flask and taking a long swig. 

Fucking shit. “This is why I want to train. So that this doesn’t happen again. I’m carrying around a lot of power right now, and I barely know how to use it. If I’m not careful I could wind up splayed out for even longer next time there’s a big fight, or I could just wind up dead.”

Gwen winced. “Okay. Fair enough.”

“I got my butt kicked.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Against the ghouls, I did fine. If this were still just about fighting ghouls, I’d be fine. But it’s about more than that. I need to get stronger. I need to figure out how to use this Star so that it doesn’t use me or kill me.”

“Okay, look,” Gwen said. “I’m not gonna pretend I’m an expert on Stars, or how to use them. I don’t even know what mine does. But I’ll help you. As much as I can.”

“Thank you,” Lacy said, beaming. “Also, why are we in Iowa?”

Gwen exhaled, then took a seat in front of the fire, next to where Lacy stood. “Because we need to regroup. The rest of the Damocles Guild needs to hear about this, and we’re gonna need their help to make anything happen. One of their field offices is in Peoria- we’re all heading there to make a battle plan. And then we’re gonna take the fight to the Sovereignty.”

“You’re really gonna do it, when you have to? Kill your father?”

Gwen gulped. “Yes.”

“I’ll help you with whatever you need,” Lacy said. “You’ve done a lot for me, and I want to return the favor as much as I can.”

Gwen kept looking into the fire, stoic, as she reached over and tousled Lacy’s hair. Lacy squirmed, but then Gwen put her arm around Lacy and pulled her tight. “Thank you. You’re a sweet girl. That said, I won’t be the only one teaching you,” Gwen said. 

Quentin, Joshua, and Isabella all looked over at Gwen. 

“You’ve all got stuff to contribute, and this girl needs to know as much about magic as she possibly can,” Gwen said to the wider camp. “And we’ve got a lot of ground to cover, both figuratively and literally.”

Isabella waltzed over and sat down next to Lacy, facing away from the fire. “I’ll start.”

Lacy tried to stare straight into the fire, tried to not show the beautiful girl her smile. She wasn’t sure if she succeeded. 

***

They hit the road at the first silver light of dawn. Lacy spent the few hours’ drive twitching in her winnebago seat, leaving her forest behind. The sun shone bright in the sky, not a cloud anywhere in sight. It had rained for so long it was almost jarring to see not a hint or threat of precipitation anywhere. 

They drove back roads along a river, taking intermittent stops for everyone to recuperate. They weren’t expected in Peoria for a few days, and it would be easier to avoid detection if they took things slow- a sudden mass of people entering a non-major city all at once would get people’s attention. Then again, the reports on the radio kept indicating people were pouring out of cities and large towns in the country’s interior. People were scared, and they weren’t sure what specifically to be afraid of, so their imaginations ran wild with nightmarish possibilities. Only small towns had been hit so far, so nobody was sure how serious it was. 

Either way, someone had to put a stop to it. 

They’d paused for the day, parked by the river. Lacy sat in the passenger’s seat of the winnebago with her hands under her rear and her face pressed against the window. She was jolted by sudden human contact. “What? What’s going on?” Lacy asked. 

“Nothing,” Isabella said, a gentle hand on Lacy’s shoulder. “Just wanted to say it was time for your training.”

“Oh?”

“Come on.”

They left the winnebago, going into the warm sunlight and over to the river. It was wide, and apparently quite deep. It was flush and blue beneath the sky. They stood on the flat ground, and Isabella stood a foot away from Lacy. “Hit me.”

“What?” Lacy said.

“Come on, hit me.”

“Um…”

“It’s part of your training. Hand to hand combat. C’mon.”

Lacy gulped, then swung a punch. Isabella blocked it, and before Lacy could finish processing what was happening, she was on the ground with her arm pinned behind her back. 

Lacy groaned. 

“What’s that?” Isabella asked. 

She groaned again. 

“Louder, for the folks in the nosebleed seats.”

Groan. 

“Use your words, Lacy.”

“No.”

“Pft. Fine then,” Isabella said as she pulled Lacy from the ground, taking her by the wrist and balancing the smaller girl with a hand on her hip. Lacy tried not to meet her eyes as Isabella spun her around and put a hand on her shoulder again. Lacy met her gaze, but noticed Isabella breaking off eye-contact first. “Let’s take it again.”

Lacy nodded. And so they did it again, and again, and again, until finally Lacy pivoted halfway through her charge and navigated around Isabella, bringing her leg into Isabella’s midriff and knocking her over. That was it, that was the secret- Lacy wasn’t big or strong, but she was quick and nimble and agile; she could make that work for her. She just had to keep moving during fights, try to get her opponents to trip over their own momentum.

From on the ground, Isabella laughed. “Not bad. Now we switch positions, see how it is from the other end.”

Lacy blushed. “Um…”

“I’ll thrust, and you try to pin me down like I did to you, hold me tight.” 

Lacy spent the next hour trying the grappling and pinning technique that Isabella had used. It was tricky, but it relied on similar principles of agility and using her enemy’s weight and momentum against them. Lacy pinned Isabella’s arm behind her back and pressed her into the ground, and saw a few shorthairs on the back of Isabella’s neck stand up when an errant breath washed over them. Lacy blushed, scurried back, and noticed Isabella’s confused expression. “That’s enough for the day,” the other girl said as she picked herself up and brushed herself off. 

“Are you okay?” Lacy asked.

“Yeah, I’m all good. Just a bit worn out. You did good. Quentin should be up next for your tutelage, so good luck with him.”

Isabella gave her a hug, then walked away and vanished back into her winnebago.

Lacy stood there for a while, contemplating the situation, waiting for Quentin. She wasn't sure what to make of Isabella- the girl was present one moment, absent but for her body the next. She was friendly to Lacy for half a conversation before growing distant, even icy. She was constantly flirting with her, but with enough plausible deniability that it could be read as platonic. Maybe this was just how she was with everyone- some people were flirty inadvertently when they were just trying to be friendly. It had to be that. There was no way Isabella was actually interested in her like that. Not Lacy- it didn’t make sense. And besides, they’d only known each other a short while- nobody got those kinds of feelings that quickly.

And besides, Lacy had other things she should be focusing on instead of getting laid. Training, fighting, the fate of the world. All that garbage. 

Eventually, Lacy grew tired of waiting and went to seek Quentin out. She hesitantly approached his trailer, even as she heard the words ‘yes mistress’ in Quentin’s voice in time with a flogger being used. As she approached, she heard Quentin say the word ‘safeword.’ 

“Oh, Gosh, baby, are you okay, did I do something wrong?” Gwen said. 

“Oh, I’m fine, my love. You were outstanding as always. But I heard Lacy approaching, so perhaps you should untie me.”

“Right, right.”

A minute went by with Lacy standing outside awkwardly, her arms folded behind her back. She knocked again, and another five minutes went by before the door opened. Lacy’s eyes went wide at the sight of her mentor in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers, with a lit cigarette in her mouth and Quentin’s head in her lap, stroking his long raven hair.

“So, uh, you two are doing good, I see,” Lacy said in a measured tone. 

“Doing well,” Gwen smirked.

“Doing well at what?” Lacy said, returning the smirk. “Or perhaps, who?”

“‘Whom’, not ‘who.’ Also, don’t be snarky.”

“I refuse.”

Gwen raised her eyebrows. “I assume you’re here for your lessons?”

“Actually, I’m here to see Quentin.”

“Well don’t get any funny ideas, you harlot.”

“Don’t be snarky,” Lacy grinned.

“I refuse,” Gwen said, mimicking Lacy’s delivery.

“Well then it appears we’ve reached an impasse,” Lacy said. 

Quentin got up, kissed Gwen on the cheek, and started dressing himself. Gwen put on pants, then grabbed her jacket and a pack of cigarettes and left the RV. On her way out, she called to the inside of the RV, “Go easy on her, we’re still breaking her in.”

Lacy chuckled, and a moment later Quentin came bounding out of the RV. 

“AHA!” he said. “What ho!”

“What’d you call me?” Lacy squinted.

“No, child, not you. It’s a turn of phrase, an exclamation of intent.”

“Intent to do what? Gwen?” Lacy smirked, all too pleased with her low-effort joke.

“Ha! Yes, but also no. Not at this moment, anyway, when she’s entrusted me with your afternoon instruction. Now, one moment,” he said, reaching back inside the RV and retrieving a glass cylinder labeled ‘swear jar.’

“What the fuck is this?” Lacy said. 

“A swear jar. You must add to it now,” Quentin said.

“What?”

“It’s part of the conditions of my instruction.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I’m entirely serious.”

Lacy sighed and took a penny from her pocket and dropped it into the glass jar. They began walking back to the riverside, Lacy struggling to keep up with Quentin’s wide gait and long stride. This guy… He talked like someone out of those books Danny was always reading, someone who unironically went around searching for dragons to save maidens from and always made sure those weren’t windmills he was tilting at. What does that mean- why do people say that? Is that from something? It’s probably from something. Lots of things are from something, I just haven’t seen or read most things- that’s not my fault. No… It is… My… Fault… That I refuse to learn to speak the basic vernacular that everyone else seems to understand. That is my fault. I mean, on the long list of my problems that are self-inflicted that’s probably near the bottom, but still … Eh, whatever, think about that later. 

“Gwen tells me you’re struggling with FIRE,” Quentin. 

“Yeah, I can’t seem to make any. You’re like a pyromancer, right?”

“No.”

“No?”

“My discipline lacks a proper name. Repair of small objects is essentially what I can do. Fixing tea cups. And guns. Mostly guns- so many small objects in guns.”

“Is that why you carry so many guns?”

“It’s one of the chief reasons. I realized quite early on in my monster hunting career that my natural capacity for magic was a trifle limited, and that I would have to compensate for it in other ways.”

“But what about your fire? You can use that- I’ve seen you.”

Quentin considered that a moment as he paced back and forth against the shore of the river. Then he stopped and asked her, “What do you know of the nature of FIRE?”

Lacy jumped. “I… I don’t know anything about that, I guess.”

“That’s good.”

“It is?”

“It’s a good start.”

“Oh.”

“FIRE is emotion given life,” Quentin said, resuming his pacing. “FIRE is the burning blood of feeling. To use FIRE is to know yourself, and to make that knowledge into POWER.”

Lacy flinched again. 

“Apologies,” Quentin said, still pacing. “Now, as I was saying: you must channel emotion into FIRE, more so than any other form of magic. Most magic is fueled by belief, rather than straightforward passion. While you must believe in the FIRE and the magic thereof in order to wield it properly, it is instinctual. You must draw from your core and pour pure emotion into it.  Not an idea or an ideal or belief, but simple emotion.”

“Ah. I think I might see the problem.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t really,” Lacy said, shaking her hands at the wrist, “Have those. Per se.”

“Now that’s demonstrably untrue, young Ms. O’Sullivan!” Quentin said, halting his progress of digging a rut into the ground. “I’ve seen you laugh. I’ve seen you smile. I’ve seen you afraid. I’ve seen you weep. I’ve seen many emotions from you.”

“Okay, so why can’t I use fire?” Lacy said, gritting her teeth.

“Well, you may not have been using the correct emotions.”

“Ah. I see.”

“See what?”

“There’s something wrong with me,” Lacy said. “I don’t really feel my feelings- they just kinda happen to me, jerk me along until they finish working through my system.”

“Incorrect,” Quentin said, walking towards her. God, he was tall.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Lacy said. 

“One for the jar,” Quentin said, sticking out his hand. 

“I don’t have any more money.”

Quentin withdrew his hand. “Then ask Joshua for some of his IOU slips.”

“Why does he have-”

“He has a foul mouth, that man.”

“But he never talks.”

“What? That’s absurd! Joshua Binyamin DaSilva never shuts up!”

“Are we talking about the same people?” Lacy asked. 

“No. We are supposed to be talking about you,” Quentin said, casting a tree’s worth of shade with his outstretched arms. “Lacy, I will tell you this only once: your self-pity will get you nowhere in life. You must learn to accept who you are, young one, even the parts you dislike. Even the parts that are less than ideal. And self-pity, the kind that causes you to think you’re so uniquely broken as to not be able to do something you can clearly do, is evidently part of that.”

Lacy hands gathered into tight fists at her sides. “And what exactly makes you so sure I can do this? How the f… Heck did you come to that conclusion? There’s plenty of weird sh-stuff about me, how do you know that emotional retar… Constipation isn’t one of them? Huh?”

“That we’re having this discussion at all,” Quentin said. And then he pointed his finger at the ground. “Also, that.”

Lacy’s eyes were drawn to the small plume of smoke snaking up from her fists. Her hands were hot, and unclenching them only helped a bit. Smoke burst from her palms in clouds, and small embers shot from her fingertips before dying in the air. 

“What the shit?” Lacy said. 

“As I said, Joshua-”

“Has the IOU’s, yes, yes. Is this normal?”

“That was how I first used pyromancy,” Quentin said. “For the majority of children, what you’re seeing now is generally how magical ability first manifests.”

Lacy growled. She held out her palms, aimed at the river. Nothing. She growled louder. Still nothing. Come on idiot for fuck’s sake you can do this, you can do this shit for crying out loud you SHOULD be able to do this even a child can do it- this is how children learn fucking magic and you’re twenty-one goddamned years old there’s no reason other than your own inability that you can’t fucking do this and yet clearly I can and I’ve got plenty of strength to draw on here, a whole bloody nuclear reactor for all intents and purposes so why the fuck can’t-

The smoke stream petered out, and no more sparks or embers came from her fingers. 

Lacy buried her face in her hands, and then slumped to the ground.

“The world must look awfully large from down there,” Quentin said. 

“Is that a short joke?”

“In part.”

“Well… Uh… How’s the weather up there?” Lacy said in monotone. Anything to take her mind off of her own self. 

Dead silence. 

“You’ve heard that one a few times, I’m guessing?” Lacy said.

“Yesssss,” he said. Then he offered her a hand up. 

She took it, sighing as she rose. 

“So how did you first use fire? Or any magic, I guess?” she asked. 

“Ah, it’s quite the story. You see, my family and I- my parents and my ten siblings-”

“Ten?!”

“Yes. I’m the sixth of eleven children.”

“You’re joking.”

“Why do you always assume people are joking when they say anything strange to you?” 

Lacy didn’t have a response to that. She started pacing the edge of the river.
Quentin kept up with her, barely having to stretch his legs to do so. “We were on a road trip, you see. Going to our cabin on the Salt Lake. We came to it, to find a manticore on the roof. My father had some experience with the supernatural- he’s mentioned a few mages in the back catalog of our family tree- but he did not bring any of our artillery. Hence, in my panic and confusion, I found FIRE bursting from my palms, and with them I burned the cabin down with the manticore alongside it.”

“...”

“Fear not- we had FIRE insurance!”

“That wasn’t what I- never mind.”

“No, no, do go on,” Quentin said, pivoting mid-step to walk back in the other direction. 

“The first time I used magic was a bit like that. I just used lightning instead of fire.”

“Hm, yes, Gwen mentioned that. How curious. I suppose this might be due to your specific circumstances- or simply that because you stumbled on lightning first, FIRE does not come as naturally to you. Or, perhaps-”

“So I need to feel more?”

“A tall order for you, I realize. How long have you been out of the closet?”

Lacy stopped. “That’s, uh… That’s kind of a personal question, man.”

Quentin continued pacing. “And how long have you been transitioning?”

“That’s also a personal question.”

“One of my younger brothers is transgender,” Quentin said. “His name is Samuel. Lovely lad. Brilliant mind. But he spoke often how distant his emotions felt before he began to transition. So, if I may inquire-”

Lacy cut him off, “Ahhhh I’ve been out to myself since I was eleven. I came out to Danny when we were about twelve. But I didn’t really tell anyone else or do anything about it until… Uh… About three months ago, actually.”

“I see.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Lacy said. She started pacing with him again. How to get the topic off of herself and her emotions? “Can your brother-”

“No, I’m the only one of my siblings with magic,” Quentin said. That was how. “My parents were concerned when I joined the Damocles Guild, but after that first encounter I couldn’t seem to help but to find more monsters to fight. More monsters came for my family and I after that first one, and I realized eventually I had to take the fight to them. So I sought out the Guild, who my father has casual acquaintances within, and dedicated my life to the good fight.”

“How did you meet Gwen?”

“Ah, what a glorious day that was,” Quentin said. “I was up in the mountains, fighting a pack of manticores-”

“You fight a lot of manticores.”

“Yesssss,” Quentin said. “They are my enemies. Of a sort, anyway. I always seem to find myself fighting them. Regardless, I had dealt with five manticores in the span of one hour, and it was broad daylight, so I had expended most of the Stardust in the area. The real trouble with only having a small bit of magic is that it makes your use of it so inefficient- you burn through all the fuel in an area on one big attack, and often don’t even realize that’s what you’ve done until after you’ve hurled your conflagration at the enemy. Of course, pyromancy in general is somewhat inefficient, but I digress. Now, the scene was thus: I was running uphill backwards, blasting all my many, many guns at the manticore as it charged at me. I ran out of bullets, and resorted to throwing my guns at the manticore in hopes of braining it. This did not work. So I retrieved my melee weapons, and prepared myself for the worst. Fortunately, as I bared my twin hatchets and the foul beast was mere inches away, a zombie-wolf came out from the brush and tore the manticore to shreds in its mighty jaws. Soon thereafter, a picture of beauty and bearing emerged from the wilderness, and her name was Guinevere.”

Lacy had to stop herself mid-groan. “... Did you guys fall in love at first sight?”

“Hm, no. That’s absurd. She did invite me for dinner afterwards, however, and we hit it off. But relationships take time and work, you know.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never been in one.”

“Hm. Well this is fair, but you might do well to remember that going forward.”

“What does that-”

“I’ve seen how you look at Isabella,” Quentin said with a gentle roll of his shoulders. “And I’ve seen how she looks at you.”

Lacy said nothing. For about thirty seconds. “So, uh, it’s that obvious-”

“Yesssssss,” Quentin said. “Perhaps you can use that.”

“Use what?”

“Your growing attraction! Channel that into FIRE.”

“... Is that how that- wouldn’t it make more sense to use, I dunno, anger for my fire?”

“Generally, yesssss. But when you have had no luck in your pursuit using those particular directions, perhaps it is time for an alternative route.”

“So you want me to be a literal flaming homosexual. Is that what you’re saying?”

Quentin threw his head back and belly-laughed. “If you like, yes.”

Lacy mulled on that, then stuck her hands out over the river and thought of Isabella. Once again, smoke and sparks, but no fire. She thought of Isabella’s face, her hair, her smile, her laugh, the way she said what she meant and made it almost musical-

The smoke grew denser.

Lacy’s arms dropped, unbearably heavy with lactic acid. “Oh come on,” she said, trying to lift her arms again. Pins and needles ran through both of them, an absence of feeling save for the bizarre sensation of her limbs’ slumber. 

“You appear to have hit your limit for the day.”

“No I haven’t,” Lacy said. “I can try to breathe fire!”

“No, Lacy,” Quentin said with a flat stare. “No.”

“Why not?”

“You might accidentally explode your own face.”

“... Really?”

“Yesssssss. Go relax, you’ve been working yourself quite hard.” And with that, he departed, and Lacy sat herself down in front of the river. 

She slipped off her shoes and socks and soaked her feet in the cold running water, then forced her arms into the river as well. The jolt gradually woke her limbs back up, soothing them. She laid down on the side of the river, listening to the world around her. The running water was the bass, everything else chiming in with the strings and woodwinds of nature. She pondered her own skill, and her own feelings, and the feelings of those around her. And she was glad that she was with people who cut her more slack than she cut herself. Perhaps she could learn a thing or two from them. 

Eventually, Isabella came and sat with her, took off her shoes and socks and bathed her feet in the river alongside Lacy. Lacy was so stunned she couldn’t speak. 

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Isabella said. 

“For what?”

“For storming off. It wasn’t cool. I… There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Lacy said. 

“And I don’t know how comfortable I am talking about it yet.”

“Same, honestly.”

“But at the same time-”

“Hey, look,” Lacy said. “We don’t have to spill our guts to each other just yet, you know? I mean, if you want, we can, but we could also just enjoy each other’s company, watch the sunset, talk about the heavy stuff later. I don’t know how many more peaceful evenings like this we’re gonna get, so…”

“I’d like that,” Isabella smiled. 

And they sat there together, watching the sunset, listening to the river. For once, Lacy managed to stay out of her own head and enjoy the world around her.